


another path to carry her burdens

by be_themoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, bit characters, requiems for the fallen, the cost of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_themoon/pseuds/be_themoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dead female angel in 4x16 had a name, and a vessel, and her vessel had a sister. OFC, Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	another path to carry her burdens

They bring your sister home with regretful faces and their caps in hand, a bullshit story of a car accident on their lips. _She was stabbed in the throat, you fucking liars_, you spit. Then you say _thank you_, because your mother taught you manners.

Three days later, you bury the sister you haven't seen in six months and then hack into the police system to read every report you can find on her death. What you find doesn't make any sense, down to how every policeman said that the car alarms were silent. You know better than to go on an obsessive quest for the answers and revenge, but you still leave a worm in their system that will bring you every report of similar murders.

What you find doesn't answer any questions, just raises more, and you move on with your life.

Three months after your sister was brought home in a coffin, you open the door to find a man in a trench coat looking at you gravely with big sad eyes.

"My name is Castiel," he says, and he tells you a fantastical story of angels and demons and the end of the world, then apologizes. You aren't sure what for. "I knew her as Haniel," he says just before he leaves. "She was a strong warrior. She did not deserve her fate." Then he just vanishes, and you think _neither did my siste_r, but you can't muster up the anger you want to feel.

The next morning you invest in a tattoo and  a subscription to boxing classes and visit your sister's grave afterwards.

"Was she good to you, this Haniel?" you say quietly. You wonder where angels go when they die.


End file.
